


To sleep, to dream

by midnightflame



Series: Sheith Positivity Week 2017 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Hammocks, M/M, Sheith Positivity Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 17:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightflame/pseuds/midnightflame
Summary: Some nights, he thinks he can watch this forever. Even with the darkness still swimming in his mind and the monsters gnawing at his soul, he thinks that there is forgiveness in these moments, for why else would the universe offer them to him if it wasn’t about bringing things back to completeness?He could fight and save, earning his scars in the process. And in return, the universe gave him Keith.[Sheith Positivity Week 2017- Relaxation / Recreation]





	To sleep, to dream

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6! And yes, by this point, there are many overlapping themes between this week's pieces. I've been enjoying playing with little bits of myth here and there, along with imagery and the like. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one as well!

They rock endlessly back and forth, the rhythm slow and easy, as unhurried as the tide beneath the moon’s sway. Shiro had taken to running his fingers down Keith’s back minutes ago, and he hasn’t stopped. Caught, perhaps, in the same rhythmic pull that drew fated souls together and waters washing over the shores. His index finger skates down the line of Keith’s spine, smoothing out the wrinkles of his T-shirt on their descent, then recreating them as it rolls back up to the nape of his neck. 

Every so often, the route changes and the rest of his fingers touch down. Shiro spins invisible whirlpools over fabric as he circles his fingertips across Keith’s shoulders, one then the other. No rhyme, no reason to the pattern, but drawn as instinctively as nature itself would have him create them. 

And still, they continue to rock back and forth.

The planet had been a friendly one, offering them respite after a rather taxing battle in the airspace around it. It is a land dense with forest and resources, with trees that towered as large as redwoods, their leaves so heavy with green they were almost black, and mines that tunneled deep into the earth. Shiro can still see the sky though, cut into tapering slivers by the foliage above, but as familiar in its night-steeped blue and glimmering starlight as Earth’s had been.

The moon here hangs low, however, and carries a deep purple across its surface.

As always, his mind reaches for the familiar in the unfamiliar, bridging the gaps and looking for the places waiting for connections. If there are any to be found.

He thinks he’s found one here, in this very moment. 

They had been offered a room in one of the huts down below, but it was Keith who had looked to the sky and noticed the web work of rope and vines branching between the trees. Shiro hadn’t intended on staying up here long, but Keith had made the choice for him, lulled into Sleep’s embrace by the rhythmic rocking of the hammock and the warmth of the body beneath his own. 

Shiro hadn’t intended on that either, but the familiar had a way of creeping in, and without a word, Keith had settled in alongside him, talking quietly about constellations they could make in this sky. 

Perhaps if they drew the points between this star and that one - 

_“What would you call it?”_

_“Endymion.”_

He had laughed at that and wants to laugh at it still. Because Keith has a way of setting him up sometimes, and there is nothing Shiro can do to keep from getting caught, no more than the earth can avoid the fall of rain. 

Some things are simply inevitable. 

Keith shifts against him, fingers twitching over Shiro’s chest, his head nuzzling into his neck. He exhales softly and settles once more. A dream, maybe. Shiro thinks there is contentment in that release, the breath warm against his skin, the part of Keith’s lips there whispering of his vulnerability at this moment.

With a carefully measured breath of his own, Shiro brings his hand up to brush the hair from the nape of Keith’s neck. He swirls his thumb around the top of his spine, then eases his fingers into the fine hairs at the base of his head. Keith shifts again, curling in against him now with an arm pulling tight across his chest, fingers hugging his ribs. At the sight of it, a smile moves across Shiro’s mouth. 

Some nights, he thinks he can watch this forever. Even with the darkness still swimming in his mind and the monsters gnawing at his soul, he thinks that there is forgiveness in these moments, for why else would the universe offer them to him if it wasn’t about bringing things back to completeness? 

He could fight and save, earning his scars in the process. And in return, the universe gave him Keith. 

Redemption in the only form Shiro would have it if given a choice. 

Rolling his head carefully to the side, Shiro presses his lips against Keith’s forehead, letting them linger there. Another breeze washes over them; the rocking continues.

“You are everything. . .”


End file.
